


Alcohol and Smoke (Are What's Keeping Me Alive)

by PeterickChild



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe Where Almost Everyone Smokes, Bottom!Pete, M/M, Rimming, Top!Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:28:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterickChild/pseuds/PeterickChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete just needs a cigarette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alcohol and Smoke (Are What's Keeping Me Alive)

I return to my dorm after class in desperate need of a cigarette. Political science is such bullshit and I never liked it that much anyway despite the fact I'm majoring in it. I fumble around in my desk drawer, searching for a pack of cigarettes. I pull out a couple of empty packs and throw them to the floor.

"Gabe, did you smoke all my cigs?" I call.

He stumbles in from the bathroom, his toothbrush still in his mouth. He searches his pockets and a couple of drawers before shrugging.

"Bill probably took 'em all. I'll tell him to get more on his way here."

"I kinda need one right now." I sigh, falling back onto the couch. My hands are beginning to shake. I really need a cigarette.

"That guy down the hall... uh, what's his name? Like Patrick or something-"

"The gay one?" I interrupt.

"Yeah! Anyway, he's in Bill's music classes and he smokes like a chimney. He can probably give you a cigarette if you really need one that bad." Gabe says, walking back into the bathroom to spit in the sink. "Bill says the guy comes from a rich family, like doctors and shit. He's probably got more smokes than a truck stop full of middle age smokers."

I sit there for a couple more minutes before my entire body begins to tremble, and Gabe comes back in with his hands on his hips.

"Dude, just go get a fag from the fag."

I crack a smile and chuck a pillow at him before heading toward the door. My hands twist and pull at the fabric of my shirt. I really need a cigarette. I reach the end of the hall, and the smell of smoke is floating up from under one of the doors. I must be in the right place. I lift my hand to knock, but the door swings open before I am able to. Some guy I recognize from one of my government classes is revealed, but as soon as he gets one look at me, he darts down the hall without looking back. A smaller, blond male soon appears in the doorway, shirtless with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. His blue eyes scan over me, and a smile spreads across his face. My mouth suddenly goes dry.

"Who are you?" He asks, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"P-Peter. Peter Wentz. I'm majoring in political science." I stammer.

"Well, Peter the political science major, I'm Patrick. What are you doing outside my dorm?" Smoke pours from his mouth as he says this, and I can feel the burn of the lack of nicotine in my system.

"I wanted-" My mind gets distracted by the way Patrick's sweatpants hang low enough to expose his beautifully sharp hipbones and the beautiful shade of his pink lips. Patrick leans against the door frame, and his sweatpants slide down just enough to reveal his lack of underwear. I choke on my breath, and Patrick cocks his head to the side.

"You wanted..?" He prompts.

"Cigarettes." I say finally. "I wanted cigarettes."

He makes a follow me motion with his hand before walking back into his dorm, and I do as I'm told. I take a seat on his unmade bed as he opens up a drawer filled with packs of cigarettes. Gabe was right about how much he had. He pulls a pack out and I reach out for it, but he lifts it away.

"Whatcha gonna pay me me with?" He asks, taking another drag from his dying cigarette.

I start to reach for my wallet, but he grabs my wrist to stop me. I give him a confused look, but he ignores my gaze and stubs out his cigarette.

"I come from a family of doctors and lawyers. I've got more money than I'll ever need, so I don't want any more. Plus, I bet you can barely pay for your own dinner. I know how college is."

He pulls out another cigarette from the pocket of his sweatpants and lights it up, taking a seat beside me. I'm shaking uncontrollably now. I really need that cigarette. He takes one look at me and a smile spreads across his lips.

"Tell ya what, I'll let you have some cigarettes, but on one condition."

"Anything." I say, and this makes his smile grow bigger.

"Don't move." He says, his voice suddenly an octave deeper. He takes a drag from his cigarette and puts his lips to mine, blowing the smoke into my mouth. He straddles my lap, pushing me down on the bed and reaching over to stub out his cigarette in the ash tray. My eyes flutter shut, and Patrick pulls on the belt loops of my jeans, grinding his hips against mine. A realization of what's going on goes through my head, and I pull away from Patrick's lips.

"I'm not g-gay." I stutter.

"That's what all the boys say before they come in here." Patrick purrs, kissing at my neck. I instantly let out a groan, tipping my head back to allow Patrick access. He lets out a laugh and bites at the sensitive skin, surely leaving marks. He licks his way up to my ear and nibbles on the lobe.

"I'll understand if you wanna just take the cigarettes and leave." Patrick murmurs. "But I'd really like it if you stayed." He sits up and unzips my hoodie, smiling when he doesn't find a shirt underneath. He kisses his way down my chest, licking at my nipples to make me moan, and stops at the top of my jeans. He traces the tattoo of the bartskull with his tongue then looks up at me, his eyes dark with lust. "Not wearing anything under here too?" Patrick asks as he unzips my jeans. A smile spreads across his face when my cock springs out of my jeans, sticky strings of precum attaching to the denim. He kisses at the inside of my thighs, watching as I squirm above him. He suddenly moves off of me, pushing at me until I roll over onto my hands and knees. I can hear his sweatpants falling to the floor then I feel the bed dip behind me, and Patrick's hands roam over the expanse of my back. His lips go down the path of my spine and he starts biting at the soft skin of my ass. I know there's going to be marks there later. He suddenly spreads my cheeks and licks at my hole, making me gasp and pull at the sheets. His tongue penetrates my entrance, and I shamelessly push back against his mouth. He replaces his tongue with his finger, searching for my prostate. "You ever been fucked before, baby?" Patrick asks.

"N-No." I gasp as he pushes in another finger.

"A sweet little virgin." He coos, pushing in a third finger. I cry out at the burn of the stretch, and Patrick hushes me, kissing at my hips. He thrusts his fingers for a little while longer before pulling them out completely, and I whimper at the sudden loss. He nudges me back on to my back and kisses me as he digs around in the bedside drawer for lube. He fishes a condom out of the drawer, but I grab him by the arm before he can tear it open.

"Can we... Can we just not use one?" I ask, feeling a blush rise on my cheeks. A wicked smile flashes across Patrick's lips, and he leans down to pull at my earlobe with his teeth.

"That's so dirty. So fucking hot." Patrick growls. He slicks up his erection with lube as he pushes my legs apart, settling between them comfortably. He shifts and puts his elbows on either side of my head, the tip of his cock resting against my entrance.

"What's your safe word?" Patrick asks.

"Gemini." I mumble.

"Cute. Mine's trumpet."

Patrick's eyes lock on me as he slowly pushes his hips forward. I let out a wail as Patrick's huge cock fills me up, stretching me open. He slides all the way in, and it feels like he's tearing me in two. I sob for him to move, to please, please _move_ and he lets out a grunt as he thrusts his hips, ramming his cock into me. He takes a hold of my legs and positions them over his shoulders, changing the angle just enough for him to slam my prostate on every thrust. I'm screaming under him, and he's singing every moan. I whine as I feel the heat building up in my stomach, and Patrick kisses me hard.

"Scream my name when you cum." Patrick purrs into my ear. "Let everyone know how much of a slut you are. Let them know how good I make you feel."

Patrick only has to thrust a couple more times before I'm screaming his name, shooting my cum over the both of us. I clench around Patrick, and I feel the hot spurt of his cum in my ass, and we both moan. He collapses on top of me, his cock still buried inside of me. After a moment, he pulls out and rolls over to the side, pulling a cigarette from the bedside table. I watch him light it, and he runs his thumb over my bottom lip as he blows out smoke.

"You're kinda beautiful." He says, leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes. He takes another drag, then hands the cigarette to me as he tries to make smoke rings. I watch his lips form perfect _o_ 's, and watch them curve into a smile when he makes successful rings. I finish off his cigarette and flick it into his ashtray. When I turn around, he's sitting up and staring at me.

"Let me guess, you're gonna say something about not being gay, and that this was a one time thing, and that you don't want me to tell anyone. Right?" He suddenly looks angry, and I shrink back a little. He lets out a sigh and sticks another cigarette between his lips. "'M sorry." He mutters, bringing his lighter up to the end of the cigarette. "'M just tired of this."

My brain makes the sudden decision to push the lighter away and kiss him. Patrick responds instantly, pulling the cigarette away and cupping my cheek. When I pull away, his hand lingers on my cheek. I lean into his touch.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing." I murmur.

"It doesn't have to be." He says. He picks the cigarette up and sticks it between my lips, lifting his lighter to light it. I take a drag, and he covers my mouth with his own when I start to blow out smoke.

"There's your cigarette." He whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I was thinking about making this chaptered, but I don't know yet.


End file.
